Cowboy Chords
by stark-obsessed247
Summary: Brenna Murphy has been clean for years, her undead life is going alright but then things get complicated and there's only one person she can trust to give her the help she needs. Mitchell hasn't been living with George and Annie for very long but he made a deal with the only vampire that understands. Two Irish vampires that know a little too much about each other. Mitchell X OC. S1
1. Chapter 1- Cowboy Chords

**_'Curiosity Killed The Cat' readers! there is a note at the end of this Fic even if you're not bothered in reading the actual story._**

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**_Series 1. I guess it's slightly AU but not too much. It's before episode 1 but Mitchell and George live with Annie and they have their jobs like in episode 1 (Lauren never happened). Herrick might make a few apearances but at the moment I have no plans to make him a huge character (that may change I'm not too sure.) It wont run into the TV program timeline. _**

**_Cowboy Chords_**

_"There are chords know as 'Cowboy Chords' because they're just the most basic, easy simple chords and everybody knows how to play them." – Frank Turner_

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Mitchell thought about her often. He would think about everything he'd done and she would be there; watching as he relived every kill and taunting as he choked on his guilt- she was the shadow in the corner that he could feel but never really saw yet she refused to leave him alone. She simply observed and tormented him.

Brenna Murphy had been her name but she preferred 'Murph'. She had been a 22 year old woman from Galway in Ireland when she was turned in 1920. She had been one of the unlucky targets of Herrick when he and Mitchell had gone there. Herrick had had the full intent of killing her but his mind had quickly been changed when she had said she would willingly give herself up so long as they left Galway and never returned- so he recruited her instead.

For years after that they were the pair that everyone feared and though Herrick felt a considerable amount more pride for Mitchell, it was obvious that he was very happy that he had created them both.

Sometimes, Mitchell wanted her back; he wanted her to help him stay clean. After they had gained their reputations there was a moment when they both decided enough was enough. There were periods of time when you would not find one without the other and then there were times when they wouldn't see each other for years. But something always bought them back together and- sadly- it was usually Herrick.

As much as Mitchell wanted to see her again, there was a conflicting part of him that was mortified by the thought of her seeing him in the state he was constantly in.

He wondered if she struggled with cravings and he wondered how she managed if she didn't.

The sad truth was that she struggled just as much as he did.

XxX

In a small backstreet pub on the outskirts of London city, there was a crowd of people cheering and shouting at a television screen as it showed the rugby players grappling the ball off of one another. England versus Ireland; it was a big game.

'O'Brien's Irish Bar' was a somewhat well known sports bar and on the days of big games, Sarah and Paddy O'Brien earned plenty of money through their sales.

Murph, as she was generally called, rented out one of the rooms above the pub and worked as a barmaid there to pay the fee. Unlike every other place she'd worked, she didn't have to say she was a bipolar sociopath to excuse her little tendencies; blood-craving tendencies and vampire-like tendencies. Sarah and Paddy knew what she was; they helped. They gave her the distraction of work and moral support.

The O'Brien's were no older than Murph looked and they had inherited the bar from Paddy's Dad when he had passed away.

A roar of ecstasy erupted from the crowd that had gathered around the television as the Irish team scored a Try. Murph dodged in and out of the men who were jumping up and down and punching the air as she gripped the empty pint glasses between her fingers. She reached over to grab a final glass from a table and made her way back to the bar. The crowd had started singing 'The Wild Rover' in support of their team and Murph smiled, joining in quietly.

She walked quickly into the back kitchen where she placed the glasses onto the side where they were picked up by the boy washing up.

"And it's no, nay, never!" the crown shouted and clapped four times. Murph chuckled and returned to the bar to help Sarah serve drinks. "No, nay, never, no more!" the crowd continued. Just as she served a middle-aged man his pint of Carling, her phone vibrated in her pocket; two quick vibrations signalling a text. "Will I play the Wild Rover?"

She took the money off of the man, fished her phone out of her pocket and slipped the change into the till as she read the message. "No, never, no more!"

The words fizzed out as she glanced at the text of the message. _'Unknown Number- Found you . . .' _She read the message over and over again; trying to stop the lump from rising further in her throat and calm her breathing. She turned frantically towards the crowd to try and see who had sent the text but she was met instead by a £10 note being shoved in her face. "Guinness." The man ordered. She stared at him incredulously and cocked her head.

Her breaths were uneven and her muscles were tensing randomly through her body. She was confused and sad and angry and the animal was rising inside her. She could feel it bubbling in her stomach and heating her muscles and coursing through her veins. She could feel the hunt lingering.

The low growl was blocked out by the music and chants but there was no mistaking the deep black that seeped into her eyes and the fangs that protruded from her gums.

XxX

"I'll take a pack of Marlboro too, please mate." Mitchell asked the man behind the checkout as he pulled the cash out of his wallet. He flicked the notes to him and picked up the bread, milk and cigarettes as the shop owner handed him the change. He nodded his thanks and walked out of the shop. He pulled his cap over his eyes despite the fact that clouds and rain were filtering out most sunlight. He lit one of the cigarettes and started the walk home.

He turned the collar of his jacket up against the attacking wind and the light specks of bearable rain and took a drag of the nicotine, leaving the encasing cigarette to hang lazily from his lips. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he groaned but pulled it out none the less.

"Hello?"

"Mitchell?"

He froze. Her voice was quiet and raspy but he would recognise it anywhere. "Murph?" he breathed.

There was a pause as she swallowed. "Yeah," she sounded like she was trying to hold back tears. "Yeah, it's me. I . . . um-" she let out a quick breath that wasn't dissimilar to somebody who was trying not to sob.

"Tell me what's up." He said with a safe amount of order in his voice.

He could almost hear the hopeless smile on her voice. "I . . ." she swallowed. "I'm losing it, Mitch. I'm losing control."

He sighed with realisation and sympathy. "Are you alri-"

"No, no I'm not." She sounded like she was moving around now. He'd seen this before. She start off by suppressing her feelings and then anger would set in and then sadness and then hopelessness and then she'd loose it; fall completely _off _the wagon. She would hit the dusty ground so hard that she would let the animal control her completely. He had to stop her before that happened.

"Hey, hey, listen Murph. You're alright, ok? _You're alright_. Now where are you?"

She took a shaky breath. "I'm- I'm in London. It- it's ok Mitchell, I just-"

"Don't Murph." The rain was hitting hard now and his cigarette had long since been extinguished so he discarded it and straightened up. "We made a deal when we split off that if one of us ever needed help the other would give it, so there's no argument. You're going to get the next train down to Bristol and we're going to meet up." He smiled as he heard her chuckle.

"Ok," she said quietly. "I'll be on the first train down."

"Good, you know where to meet?"

"Yeah, course I do. Bye Mitch."

"I'll see ya later." The phone cut off and he sighed as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He paused for a moment, thinking about how complicated things were likely to get and then he smiled. He was getting her back; 7 years without seeing her and he was finally going to get her back.

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**_Right, so this is a completely unplanned story and the Frank Turner Quote at the begging will be explained in due time. I just love Mitchell's character (and Aidan Turner's not too bad soooo.) Anybody who's reading this who's also reading 'Curiosity Killed The Cat' (my Avengers fic) there is a completely rational explanation as to why I haven't updated in AGES. Basically, I got about 7 pages into the next chapter and my laptop shut down and I lost the last 5 pages. I left it for a while because I was pretty annoyed. When I started writing it again my laptop got a virus telling me the Metropolitan Police were scouting my location. So we managed to get rid of it but my laptop had completely rebooted. I lost EVERYTHING (including several pages of draft Fic's for various Fandom's and I don't even had Microsoft Word anymore.) so at the moment I am just doing these because I'm praying that my Dad will look at the stuff he supposedly backed up on a memory stick and when I get Word the format might be right to get everything back. I've been working on a Hobbit Fic too but I PROMISE that Curiosity Killed The Cat WILL DEFINATELY be updated. Just not right now because I'm praying that I'll get things back. _**

**_ANYWAY! Favourite! Follow! And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Review to tell me what you think. More chaps coming soon._**


	2. Chapter 2- The Road To Stability

Murph was sat on the train. Almost 100 years of life had managed to be stuffed into a gym bag, a drawstring bag, a rucksack and a guitar case. It was safe to say that she was a little depressed. She was sat at a one of the tables and there was a young man sat opposite who kept glancing up at her over his phone. Had she been human, Murph probably would have given him a chance, but she wasn't human and he- along with the family sat next to her and the football fans at the other end of the carriage- had no idea that there was a monster among them who had the power to slaughter them all.

Murph took a silent gasp in and flushed the thoughts out of her head. She tried to concentrate on the words on the page in front of her and the lyrics of the song that was playing through her earphones but thoughts of blood kept seeping in. As if the blood cravings weren't enough, there was that horrible, irrational feeling of fear running through her and she had no idea why.

She looked up and her eyes locked with the man opposite her. He smiled and she smiled back. She could do it. She could coax him into the toilets. She could make it look like suicide. Or she could just take a nibble . . .

_"Next stop. Bristol, Temple Meads." _The voice over said and the words pulled her out of her thoughts. She broke her gaze away from the young man and slammed her book shut. "Sorry," she breathed. "I thought I recognised you." She shot up and pulled her bags from the overhead compartment as the train started to slow. "This is my stop." She explained while she pushed her book into the rucksack and hauled it onto her back. She pulled the gym bag over her shoulder along with the drawstring bag and carried the guitar case in her hand.

She made her way to the door, leaving the man wondering what the hell had just happened.

There was the screeching of brakes as the train stopped and then the sound of air locks releasing as the doors opened.

Murph stepped quickly off of the train pulling her phone out with her spare hand and texting Mitchell. _'10 minutes.' _She sent before pushing her phone back into her pocket.

She stopped momentarily to look around the station. It was bustling with people and Murph couldn't stop a small smile creeping onto her lips. Though she hadn't seen Mitchell in 7 years, she hadn't been back to Bristol in well over 15. The city even smelt the same. She sighed inaudibly and went on her way.

She caught a taxi outside the station, flicking a 20 pence coin into a busker's hat as she went. She was wearing her usual get up; her brunette curls cascaded out of the grasps of the grey beanie hat that was expertly hanging towards the back of her head and on her hands she had fingerless gloves of the same colour. Her black tee shirt had the rolling stones logo on the front and a red skin-tight long-sleeved top underneath, her jeans were the usual Levi Strauss jeans she'd had for at least a decade and her brown converse had faded in some parts, showing how much they'd been worn.

She told the taxi driver to take her to The Nags Head Pub and she paid him when they arrived.

The pub- as per usual at two o'clock on a Thursday- was practically empty. There was a small group of Goth-looking friends that consisted of two people who looked high, another pair who were practically sucking each other's faces off and a young girl who was just listening to music. There were two elderly men who were just waiting for the atmosphere to pick up though that wasn't going to happen for another few hours yet. There was an awkward silence that the pub was submerged in due to the noticeable absence of any music or television talk.

Mitchell wasn't there yet.

Murph pulled her earphone out and let the pair hang lazily from the collar of her tee shirt as she moved the strap of the bag on her shoulder. She moved over to the bar where there was a middle-aged man who was cleaning a glass. "Can I help you?" he was clearly bored and probably wondering why he even opened the pub at this time of the day.

"Um, yeah." Murph said, setting the guitar case down gently. "I'll take a Guinness." She said and then thought for a moment. "Probably best to get a Stella, too." She knew what Mitchell would want.

She paid and carefully moved to drinks over to a table in the corner before relieving her shoulders of the weight of the bags. She sat and took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her right hand to try and distract herself with the movements of the bones and muscles.

The decor of the pub seemed to run along the theme of 'dark green'. The sofa's, stools and the chairs had cushions of that colour and the walls were panelled with dark wood.

There was a recognisable squeak as the heavy wooden door opened and Murph's gaze shot up.

Mitchell was in the doorway. He looked slightly tenser that the last time she had seen him but it had been years as she had other things to think about so she let him off. He was dressed in slim fit jeans and practically worn-through combat boots with a red jacket over a black vest.

He let out a relieved sigh as he smiled happily. Murph only saw a glimpse of his look before she buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms firmly around his torso. He held her just as tight, gently holding her head.

Murph took in a deep breath through her nose; he smelt of whatever brand of detergent he used for his clothes and there was a faint smell of aftershave and barely noticeable cigarette smoke and . . . _Werewolf?_

She decided she would question him about it later because a sudden thought overcame her. She realised that- even in a dodgy pub in Bristol- she hadn't felt as safe as she did then in years. In the arms of a recovering serial killer, who smelt faintly of cigarettes and wet dog, she felt like nothing could touch her; there was no blood and no cravings and no guilt and she felt at home.

She felt Mitchell's breath on the top of her ear as he stroked her brunette hair with his thumb. "You alright?" he asked quietly.

She sniffed; realising there was a small lump rising in her throat as she nodded against his shoulder. "I'm better now." She replied and pulled away from his embrace. "T'anks for comin'" she said with a small smile.

He nodded slightly and shrugged. "'s alright, you didn't t'ink I was jus' gonna leave you to struggle on your own, did you?"

She shrugged. "Guess not," she smiled. "That's probably what made me call you. C'mon, I bought you a drink." She gestured over to the table and started to walk over.

He chuckled when she sat down next to the sticker covered guitar case. "are yo0u _still_ trawling that poor guitar wit' you _everywhere _you go?"

She gaped with a small smile. "What do you mean, '_everywhere'?_ It's not like I'm _always_ movin'." He gave her an '_oh really?' _look and she chuckled before continuing. "I've managed to live in London for 7 years." She informed him.

"Really, who with?" he took a sip of his drink as he sat down on the sofa.

"Paddy and Sarah O'Brien."

"Oh? Are the O'Brien's still helpin' vampires?"

A sad look flited over Murph's face and, obviously, Mitchell noticed. "Why don't you tell me why you need my help?"

She took a deep breath and was about to answer but her phone vibrated in her pocket. Her expression dropped and she paused before quickly pulling out her phone. _'Unknown Number- Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.'_ cold, bare fear ran through her body and made her tense.

She read the message several times before taking a shaky breath and sliding the phone to Mitchell over the table. He read it a few times with a confused expression before he glanced up at her. "Herrick?" he asked.

Murph sucked on her cheek. "Nah, Herrick wants me back, he'd try to persuade me not freak me out."

"So who is it then?"

She thought for a moment. "Haven't the foggiest. Well, I have an idea but there's, like, t'ree people who it could be."

"Anybody I know?"

"Don't t'ink so. But they have my phone number so I'm gonna have to change my SIM."

"You can buy them from the corner shop." He stated simply.

"Can you?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

There was a pause as they both took a drink, Mitchell sighed and reclined in his seat. "So what happened that you got kicked out?" Murph shot him a _'how-the-hell-did-you-know-that?'_ look. "c'mon," he exclaimed. "you're life has been practically vacuum-packed into your bags and that guitar means everyt'in' to you, you wouldn't jus' take it wit' everywhere you go."

Murph sighed. "Jeese, talk about a watered down _'Sherlock Holmes'_, Mitch." She leant forward and took a drink before the small smile evaporated from her face. She took a breath before relaxing herself. Mitchell looked at her encouragingly and she gave in. "I attacked Sarah." She said quietly just so he could hear.

His eyebrows rose for a moment and his mouth moved slightly, his brain trying to form words. "Is she alright?"

She gave a small shrug and looked down. "I don't know. Paddy kicked me out before I could check. I don't think I pierced an artery but I drank her blood so I thought it best that I found you before I did something I'd really regret."

He smiled reassuringly. "Ok," he paused before realisation flooded his face. "Wait, so you have nowhere to go?"

Murph sighed. She didn't want to impose; she just wanted the comfort of Mitchell. "This is what I was worried about. I'll be alright Mitch," she smiled and leant on the table. "I can rent somewhere out nearby and you can just keep an eye on me. I'll get a job and-"

"Murph," he reached forward and gently took her hand. His touch would have made her jump but it was Mitchell and the feel of his fingers on hand was so comforting that she felt every muscle in her body relax impossibly further. "I'm not letting you walk out of that door without making sure you're ok. I mean," he shrugged. "You'll probably have to sleep on the couch or somet'in' but it'd make me feel a lot better if I could keep a _proper _eye on you." They chuckled and Murph squeezed his hand- with the gentleness of a child- in thanks. "And you could probably get a job at the hospital where George and I work, I'm sure you'd be able-"

"George?" she shot him a confused look.

"Oh yeah," he released her hand and the warmth that had spread through Murph's body disappeared instantly. "I didn't tell you, did I?"

"Tell me what?" she asked, slightly worried why he was so excited to tell her about 'George'.

"I got house mates." He said, pride evident on his face.

"House mates? Vampires?"

He gave a single, short chuckle. "Nah, not quite."

Her mouth gaped slightly and her eyes went wide. "Humans? Mitchell I can't live with you if you're living with humans, I'll lose it. I can't-"

He laughed and it cut her off. "They aren't _human,_ I struggle too you know. Do you really think I'd live with humans? I've always had less control than you, you've pulled it off for 7 years but I wouldn't even last 7 days. C'mon," he gestured towards the door. "Why don't you meet them for yourself? Believe me, you won't hurt them." He smiled reassuringly and drank the rest of his beer. She sighed and stood up, she grabbed her guitar and rucksack and went to grab her gym bag but Mitchell got there before her. "I can take those." He pulled the gym bag over his shoulder and snatched up the drawstring bag before she could protest.

"Mitch," she moaned with a small smile.

"No, honestly. Its fine." He said.

Murph sighed and gave in. "Jeese, Mitch. Sometimes you're too kind for your own good." She said and drank the remainder of her own drink before joining him and leaving the pub with a renewed feeling of happiness that had been absent for years.

* * *

_**OK, so that was Chapter 2. Please tell me what you think. I love Mitchell's character so much, he's so complicated and it should be fun to write him and his relationship with Murph. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Please Review, Favourite and Follow because its nice to know people are reading. Thanks. **_


	3. Chapter 3- Once, It Seemed Possible

_**Cowboy Chords- Chapter 3- Once, It Seemed Possible**_

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Murph hunched herself against the cold as the rain slipped down her back. Her jumpers were packed somewhere in one of the bags and she had already taken her military jacket out of the rucksack. "Have you got a light?" she asked Mitchell as she pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket. Smoking was a nasty habit but she was around when women had first been allowed to smoke and when it was considered something to improve health and she had no worries about it killing her anyway. It was hard to kick one addiction, let alone attempting to break a nicotine and caffeine addiction too.

"Yeah." He pulled his own packet out along with a lighter. He handed the latter item to her and pulled out his own cigarette. Murph sparked her own up and relished in the relieving power that was carried with the drug.

"How far away do you live?" Murph inquired.

"About 5, maybe 10 minutes away." He replied. His answer triggered a shiver to run down Murph's body. He noticed and immediately started to take his jacket off of his shoulders to hold it over their heads.

"No, no, its fine." Murph tried to argue. "You're only in a vest top."

"Murph, it's raining, I think it's apparent that we're both going to get a little bit wet."

She sighed and then smiled mischievously. "Fine, then let's get _a lot_ wet." She set off and a quick run, discarding her half finished cigarette. She heard Mitchell laugh and run after her.

Rain kicked up from puddles was soaking through Murph's jeans and the falling drops were making her tee shirt cling to her torso. She pulled her hat off of her head because she could feel it slipping and clutched onto it as she felt the water run into her shoes.

Mitch smiled as he looked at the female vampire run in front of him, her curls were tamed by the extra weight of the attacking droplets of water but they were flying behind her nonetheless. He found his mind drifting off to one of the few memories that he hoped he never forgot; one of the times when going dry had seemed most possible.

Murph's modern clothes transformed into a dark blue dress that was just below her knees and the rainy sky above became clear and filled with stars. A thin, dark scarf was flying behind her with her hair and she was laughing, that loud, cheery sound that gave him butterflies. He couldn't remember the exact date but it was some point during the 30's when they had first decided to go clean and something about them being able to resist their first real blood temptation was why they were so happy.

"Which way?!" she shouted behind her and pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Left!" he yelled back and she quickly dodged down the street. "Pink house, you can't miss it!" he caught up to her as they neared their destination. He hadn't run in a long time, unless you counted the times he was chased but his life had been pleasantly quiet as of late.

"Pink?" she asked as if she had heard him wrong.

He chuckled. "yeah." He was getting out of breath and so was she so it was a relief when the house came into view. "This one." He told her and their footsteps got heavier as they slowed. Mitchell hunched over with Murph next to him as they came to the door and he tried to pull out his keys but physically couldn't because of how cold his fingers were. He resorted to just bashing on the door with the side of his hand until the door was pulled open.

Mitchell let Murph run in first. "T'ank God." She said under her breath as she rushed in. The two vampires stood shaking and sodden and practically drowned in the front room with water dripping off of them. The bags were quickly dropped along with jackets and gloves that were the main cause of the small puddles that were forming on the floor.

"Jaysus it's cold." Murph said to herself and she looked up to see who had let them in. She saw- who she assumed to be- George in Jeans and a green chequered shirt, standing with caution and confusion. "Hey," Murph said almost tentatively. "I'm Murph, an old friend of Mitchell's."

He seemed to calm slightly but shifted from foot to foot. "G-George." He introduced himself nervously.

There was a slight look of confusion on Murph's face but suddenly, realisation dawned and the look was mirrored on George. "Old friend? You're a vampire?"

"You're a werewolf?" she said at almost the same time as George. She cocked her head slightly and smiled in almost awe. "I haven't seen one of you in years." She said almost to herself. He shot her a somewhat confused glance like he was wondering why she hadn't seen one of _'him'_. She shrugged. "I've been out of the Supernatural circle for a while now." She explained.

There was a slightly awkward pause as George straightened and nodded skittishly. "Did I hear Mitchell come back?" Came a sudden woman's voice- Annie- as somebody padded quickly down the stairs. "'Cause I need to talk to him about his-" A young woman- clad in grey- emerged, spotted Murph and stopped talking.

The female vampire read the signs and gawked at Mitchell who smiled with somewhat pride. "A Ghost?" Murph asked. "A _Werewolf_ and a _Ghost_? Living with _you_? A _Vampire_?" he chuckled and she smiled. "You weren't kidding when you said I wouldn't hurt them."

Annie suddenly interrupted and looked straight at Murph. "I'm sorry, can you see me?" she asked blatantly and Murph smiled and nodded quickly.

"Yeah," she spoke almost encouragingly. "Almost as much as I can see Mitchell and George."

There was a pause as Annie just stared and gawked at Murph who was expecting the enormous flurry of words that was going to be aimed at her from the relatively new ghost. "Wow!" she shouted. "This is fantastic." She walked quickly towards Murph. "I can talk to another woman! I'm Annie; you have no idea how hard it is to live with so much _testosterone._" Murph shot a glance at Mitchell who smirked. "Would you like a drink?" Annie asked quickly.

"Oh, yes please. But I'd kinda like to stop dripping first, I'm freezin'"

"Of course, you can get changed in my room if you want. I take it you have clothes in those bags?"

Murph chuckled almost awkwardly. "Yeah."

Mitchell chose that point to speak up. "Speaking of her bags, can I talk to you and George, Annie? While Murph gets changed." Annie nodded and Murph picked up one of her bags to take up to the room.

"First room on the left." Annie said.

"Ok, t'anks." Murph said as she trotted up the stairs.

She was pretty glad she was going to miss the _'can my murderer friend sleep on our sofa until she's stable enough to not slaughter people'_ conversation. When she walked into Annie's room she nearly had to double-check she was in the right place but the room definitely felt like the place a ghost would spend most of her time. It was the bare essentials; which was never much for a ghost- a dresser that was probably empty, an arms chair and barely anything else.

Murph placed her bag next to her and drew the curtains just in case. She stripped down and pulled out a pair of ripped jeans and a simple dark grey tee shirt. She wrung her hair over her wet clothes before pulling her curls into a ponytail. She found the bathroom and did her best to squeeze all of the water out of her old outfit. She heard somebody run up the stairs and she walked out of the bathroom to find Mitchell coming out of Annie's room where he had assumed she would be. She looked at him expectantly and he smiled. "You can stay." He said.

She sighed with relief before abandoning her clothes and rushing forward to hug him. She held him tightly, feeling at home on his arms. "T'ank you, t'ank you so much. You haven't a clue about how much this means." She kissed him softly on the cheek before letting go and beginning to walk back to the bathroom. "Tell Annie I'll have a coffee."

"How do you take it?" he asked.

She smiled to him. "Same as you. Providing you haven't changed in the last 7 years."

He scoffed. "I haven't changed in the last _70 _years." They chuckled before Mitchell made his way downstairs.

Murph paused and looked up into the mirror where- still- there was no reflection. When she heard Mitchell's feet leave the stairs she let go a happy breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She smiled giddily like a child who had found out some exciting news and she couldn't make it go away. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so happy but there was a strange form of stability that had been restored and that comforted her.

She sighed with a smiled before going downstairs. She looked into the plain front room where George and Mitchell were having a hushed conversation. Murph decided not to intervene as she had a sneaking feeling that she was the subject and thought it best that she stay out of it. Instead, she moved into the kitchen where Annie was skilfully making two cups of identical coffee and a tea with her back to the vampire. The ghost was humming a tune though was completely concentrated on the drinks before her.

Murph leaned on the table as Annie threw the teaspoons in the sink and turned round. "Oh!" she exclaimed as she saw Murph- who she clearly hadn't expected to see. Murph rushed forward to stop her from dropping the two mugs and carefully manoeuvred her hands into the handles. "Gosh, I'm sorry." Murph apologised. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Annie placed a careful hand on her chest to calm her no-existent breaths. "Don't worry its fine. I'm just not really used to this 'I'm-dead-so-nothing-can-really-hurt-me' business." She laughed.

Murph, still feeling slightly guilty for making Annie jump, looked down at the tea and the coffee in her hands. "Are these George and Mitchell's?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you like me to take them in?"

"Could you?"

"'Course, its fine." She walked out of the kitchen but hid behind the wall when she caught a snippet of the two boys' conversation.

"She's a murderer." George argued in a hushed tone.

"Lapsed." Mitchell bit back. He paused. "Sort of."

"_Sort of?!_" he whispered angrily. "She attacked someone less than four hours ago."

Mitchell sighed. "That's exactly why she needs my help, George. Do you really expect me to leave my oldest living friend when she asks me for help?" there was another pause. "I can't leave her on her own. She needs my help."

Silence followed and Murph sighed. "He's right." She said before showing herself and handing the right drink to both of the boys. They stared at her, shocked that she was suddenly there as they accepted their drinks. Murph looked at them both and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I _do _need help." Mitchell looked sympathetic and George was still shocked. "Mitchell's the only one I know can help me properly." George just stared. "I know it's not convenient but I'm desperate and- seriously- I'll accept the floor if you don't want me sleppin' on the sofa. I don't make a mess and I can cook . . . sorta . . . beans on toast. But still." She was developing onto rambling. "I can clean, I'm not loud . . ." she cringed slightly "Often . . . and the most you'll hear out of me is guitar music and it won't be much and-"

"Murph." Mitchell cut her off and she finally breathed. She looked to Mitchell and gave him a thankful gaze before sighing and turning to George. "Please." She said quietly.

George slumped slightly and lifted his hands up in surrender. "Yes, yes, you can stay." Murph and Mitchell beamed at each other and Murph felt everything lift as she looked back to George. "T'ank you." She said honestly and George smiled and nodded suddenly understanding how much she relied on Mitchell. He took a discreet look around the corner to the ghost in the kitchen. "Besides, I think Annie's going to explode if she doesn't get a decent talk with another woman."

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_**OK, so, chapter 3! What did you think? Please tell me through a review. I'm actually having quite a bit of fun writing this, haven't got a clue where it's going to go but I think I have a general idea. Favourite, Follow and Review.**_


	4. Chapter 4- A Chat And A Coffee

_**Cowboy Chords- Chapter 4- A Chat And A Coffee**_

* * *

As planned, Murph slept on the sofa, with a blanket over the cushions to make it slightly nicer. Annie gave her a spare quilt and pillow and she got at almost 5 hours sleep which was more than usual. She woke up at six and knew there was no way she was going to get back to sleep, so she folded the quilt and blanket and placed them in the corner with the pillow ignoring the craving that was evident in the pit of her stomach.

She sighed and quickly pulled a jumper over the red vest top she wore to sleep in and kept the leggings on but pulled bed-socks over her feet. She ran her hand through her tatty curls before standing up and making her way into the kitchen. Annie was sat on a cabinet against the kitchen wall, shuffled as far into the corner as possible with her knees pulled into her chest.

She looked deep in thought but her face lit up when she looked up to see Murph standing there. "Morning!" she greeted. "Do you want a drink?" she asked, excited.

Murph was still groggy and Annie's enthusiasm was disorientating her. She stared for a moment before realising what the ghost had said. "Oh, oh yes please. Coffee, if that's alright?"

Annie jumped up quickly and made her way to the kitchen and Murph followed, perching herself on the table. She cocked her head slightly after watching Annie for a moment.

The ghost turned with the cup of coffee in her hand and Murph suddenly yawned. Annie chuckled. "Tired?"

Murph nodded and took the coffee. "I'm always tired." She laughed and took a sip of the drink, ignoring the scolding on her tongue. She looked up to see Annie staring at her. She gave her an inquiring look and Annie snapped out of her trance.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare;" there was a pause. "I was just . . ." she craned her neck at the awkwardness of the situation. "I was just wondering how you got to meet Mitchell."

Murph caught her breath and chewed on her cheek as she thought of how to reply. "Would you like the full story or the watered-down version?"

Annie's face lit up with excitement. "Full version."

Murph sighed with a small smile and shuffled until her back hit the wall and her feet were dangling from the edge of the table where she had been perched a moment before. Annie joined her, still excited about the prospect of finally hearing a story.

"Right," Murph stared into space for a moment and tapped her fingers lightly on the mug in her hands. "I guess, you could say, I first met him I'm 1920. I had just turned 22 and I was the t'ird eldest child in my family. My older siblings were either expected to work on the lands or helping my mother with the youngest children. There were seven of us and-"

"Seven?" Annie asked suddenly.

Murph smiled. "Yeah, this was what was soon to be the republic of Ireland and my family was catholic." She explained. "Anyway, my mother wanted to give my youngest brother a bath, we had running water, of course, but she had this weird thing about how the water from the brook was better for the skin or . . . somet'in like that, so I went to get some." She sighed and took a sip of the cooling coffee. She suddenly thought and turned to Annie. "You do know about Herrick, don't you?"

Annie smiled. "Yeah, Mitchell explained a while ago."

Murph nodded. "ok, well on the way to the brook, I ran into this strange English fellow- who's name I soon learned was Herrick- and his _shady, secluded_ and almost _annoyingly charming_-" she gave Annie _the _look; the one only girls can read and they both chuckled. "Irish companion. Now _Mitchell's_ name, I didn't learn until I ran away and he was sent to fetch me back. Has he told you that Herrick turned him after he bargained his own life to save those of his men?" Annie nodded. "Well as far as I know, Herrick had the full intention to drain me dry and never look back- and he told me so before I ran- but when I was pulled back I told him that I would willingly let him, so long as he left Galway straight away and never returned. That seemed to be the . . . _eureka _moment for Herrick, he knew what Mitch could do and since I seemed to have pretty much the same descent and mind-set he decided to turn me rather than kill me. He thought that if he could get me and Mitchell to work together then he could have an unbelievable power that only he could control."

There was a pause as Murph took another drink. "So what happened?" Annie asked.

Murph turned to her. "He . . . created an unbelievable power that only he could control." The vampire downed the rest of the reasonably cool coffee and placed the cup beside her. There was an awkward silence and Murph suddenly noticed things; things like the number of knifes on the draining board and the amount of bowls stacked in the cupboard and the quantity of milk in the bottle on the side.

"And when did you decide to go clean?"

Murph paused for a moment, not expecting Annie to ask anything more. "Um . . . 1934. From the start I never wanted to kill anyone, it took Herrick to force me onto someone's neck before I fed. Mitchell tried to make me remember that I didn't want to kill though after a year or so, I could take it anymore and we both just . . . followed Herrick's every order without a second thought. In 1934 we both decide that enough was enough and we were fine for about two years before Herrick found us again."

"What happened then?"

Murph sighed. "We went back to killing, before coming off again several years later. And the cycle went round and round." There was silence for a moment. "Am I right in saying that Mitch and George are working at the hospital?"

Annie seemed to perk up, suddenly forgetting the seriousness of the previous conversation. "Yeah, yeah. Mitchell said it's done him good- being in a place where you're always around blood. Says it helps him resist temptation. You should go for a job." Annie recommended.

Murph gnawed on her lip. "I was thinking that. Mitchell said I should. Give it a few days and I'll apply for a job." She looked down at Annie's outfit and cocked her head. "I really like your boots, I couldn't wear them, but I like them."

"Why couldn't you wear them?"

Murph gestured to herself. "c'mon, I'm still stuck in the rock and grunge phase of the 70's and 80's."

Annie scoffed. "So's Mitchell." Murph almost choked on nothing and stared at Annie for a second before laughing.

"Yeah but grunge is better than gangster." She reasoned.

"True. Anyway, at least you can change your clothes, I'm constantly stuck in these." Annie pulled on her leggings.

Murph shrugged. "Your clothes are pretty decent compared to some ghosts. I once met a ghost of someone who died during a costume party. She spent 25 years dressed up as Cat Woman in only a leather bra and trousers with a whip curled through one of her belt loops with cat ears and face paint. She was pretty desperate to find her unfinished business."

They both chuckled and then there was silence. Murph stood up and started to swill out her mug. "What exactly happened that made you need Mitchell's help?" Annie asked suddenly and the question made the vampire stop. "Ummm." She scratched the back of her neck. "Well, like Mitchell, I haven't exactly got the cleanest of pasts. I got on the wrong side of a lot of people and a few of them are slightly more powerful than others. I honestly don't know what they want but one of them found out my phone number and text me yesterday while I was working. Well I kinda freaked and almost attacked a drunkard who was ordering me around. When the woman I've been living with- Sarah- pulled me away, I attacked her instead. Her husband- paddy- saw me and kicked me out."

"Really? That seems pretty harsh."

Murph shrugged. "Not really. The arrangement was that they would put a roof over my head, give me work and help me through whatever I needed help with but if I hurt either of them then I was to leave straight away. They stuck by their side of the agreement and I stuck by mine. The only problem was that I tasted Sarah's blood and all I could think about was killing someone. Mitchell knows me better than anyone and we made a promise to each other when we first went dry that if either of us was ever in trouble and needed help they the other would be there. So I needed help and he was the one I knew I could call."

Annie smiled. "That's really sweet."

Murph chuckled. "It's never been described as 'sweet' before."

"What has it been described as before?"

Mitchell's voice suddenly sounded from the bottom of the stairs. "_I _usuallyget 'weird' or 'strange'." he smirked as he walked over to them. "Or occasionally 'messed up'. But I _did_ used to hang around with people who thought women were just for sex and making sandwiches." He looked the same as he always did; scruffy and annoyingly hot. He all but _swaggered _towards the pair in his skin-tight tee shirt and low-hanging trouser and if Murph had been a normal girl who hadn't lived with him on at least three occasions she probably would have gawked and stared and probably taken a picture to preserve the moment. But Mitchell and her were preserved anyway, they weren't going to age and they weren't going to put on weight or lose their looks; they didn't need to worry.

"Morning Mitchell." Annie greeted, jumping up.

Murph smiled at him. "You were a prat in the 60's." She said as he took up Annie's spot on the table.

"Coffee?" the ghost asked, knowing how he would answer and putting the kettle on boil before he even replied.

"Yes please." He looked to Murph and she sighed before she leant her head on his shoulder. She listened to his breathing for a moment before swallowing. "Thanks by the way." She said quietly. "For helping."

She could practically feel his smile before he shifted to pull her into a hug. Nothing was said for a moment before he turned his head to rest his chin gently on her hair. "s'alright." He said in an equally quiet voice. There was silence for a moment. "You can talk to me ya know." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "I'll always listen."

Murph smiled. "I know, I will. Don't worry." She settled into his shoulder and wished for a moment that she could feel warmth emanating off of his body and wished that she could hear his heartbeat, but she knew that wasn't going to happen so she quickly dismissed the thoughts.

When you're in the position where eternity is looming over you, the small things are what mean the most. But the people who can spend eternity with you mean more. Murph knew this and the small imperfections of the people were unimportant and petty in her mind, she was just happy that she had someone; genuinely, fully, and that she was with her through everything, he didn't care what she did and would probably tear his heart out just to save her own

It was in that moment that she realised that she would do the same and she would do anything not to lose him.

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_**Ok, so, chapter 4. What did you think? Please review, favourite and follow and tell me what you think. Loving all of the reviews, it's really nice to read them. Thank you to all of you who have followed and favourited, it's really nice to see that people are reading. Thanks again. Hope you're enjoying it.**_


	5. Chapter 5- The Galway Shawl

**_Chapter 5- 'And round her shoulders, was a Galway shawl.'_**

_6:20pm, Sunday 11 January 1920, Oranmore, Co Galway, Ireland_

_Brenna Murphy had never been involved in bad things. She had always been a simple girl from Galway with no big expectations or major plans; she simply followed the drift. She rarely got in trouble- other than the times her adolescence influenced her actions- and tried to help her mother who was busy balancing her time between 7 children. She helped her father on the lands whenever he would allow and being the third oldest meant that she often had to get up to let their dog out and look after their cow and chickens. She was always the responsible one- the well-behaved one._

_It was for those exact reasons that she couldn't understand what the men wanted with her._

_She had been sent out to collect some water. She had walked down with her families Irish Setter dog at her heels and got the water from the end of the brook where it channelled underground and eventually into the river a mile or two away; it was most filtered there._

_She had managed to slip an appropriate amount into the two large buckets before starting the mile walk home._

_She glanced down to see the rusty coloured dog staring up at her. She could only just make out the outline but she could see where the moon was reflecting in its eyes that it was looking at her. She smiled and chuckled but carried on walking._

_She placed the buckets down for a second to button up her cardigan that did little against the chill of the Irish air- a dress was not the warmest of clothes to wear in Irish winter. She picked the bucket back up and started on her way again._

_The road she walked along was secluded and there were only a few farm houses and barns down long driveways anywhere near where she was. It never really worried her, the only things to be fearful of were feral dogs but they were rarely seen._

_She looked down at the dog that was trotting loyally beside her as it had been trained. She could see the small space of darkness where the path to their farm house began so she clicked her tongue. "Home." She ordered and the dog sped off. She smiled as the dog rounded the corner and disappeared._

_The land suddenly seemed quiet without the sound of the Setter beside her and the low sound of his breathing. A chill ran through her but she felt no breeze._

_She turned slowly to look down the slope she had just walked up and squinted into the darkness. She saw nothing. She tutted to herself and rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Bren." She verbally scolded as she started to turn back around to restart her journey home. "There's not'ing to be scared o-" she hit something with a soft 'whoomph' and dropped the two buckets as she stumbled backwards._

_There was a man stood before her and she had bashed straight into him. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. He had thinning ginger hair and it was too dark to see his eyes. There was a pause as she tried to stop her chest shaking with her uneasy breaths. He cocked his head and seemed to just stare at her, deeper than anyone had ever cared to._

_He took a sudden sharp breath and looked down at the buckets at her feet and the water that was quickly splashing down the hill. "Oh dear," he said with a British accent. "I've made you drop your things. I'm ever so sorry."_

_She swallowed and slumped. "Its fine." She said in a less than happy tone. She tore her eyes away from the Brit and glanced down at the bucket. She picked them up, looking back to him cautiously. "I'll just have to get some more." She turned on her heels, picking up the courage to turn her back on him, and started to make her way back down the hill._

_She had made it no more than 10 steps before she stopped again. There was a second figure that emerged from the bushes bordering the farmland to her left. He was taller than the Brit but they were clearly together- they both wore suits and looked identically calm._

_She spun back around, feeling all of her natural Irish optimism evaporate. "What do you want with me?!" she half-shouted, half-begged. She could hear the second mans slow footsteps behind her and she resisted the urge to put her hand out to stop him from coming any closer._

_The Brit hadn't moved, she saw his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before he walked towards her. "My name is William Herrick and if I were in a good mood, I would be offering you a new life; a chance to be completely happy." She felt a chill run up her body._

_"And what about if you're in a bad mood?" she said cautiously as she saw a menacing smile grow on his face._

_"I'm simply going to kill you."_

_Her eyes widened and she paused for a moment. She took a deep breath and bolted. She leapt past the man in front of her, discarding the buckets and setting off at a full pelt. She heard a chuckle. "Mitchell." The Brit sang. She made it no more than ten metres before a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist. She kicked and she yelled for help but she was delivered back to the man nonetheless._

_She turned to the man- Mitchell- with tears in her eyes. "Why do you help him?" she pleaded. "Do you murder too?" she looked at him for the first time. He had curly hear and pale skin but his eyes were what stopped her- they held emotions but she looked no further because she could feel the chilling prickle of death creeping up on her. "Please," she felt herself shake. "Please, why are you doing this?" she saw him swallow and a sympathetic look made itself known on his face. "I'm sorry." He said quietly._

_She closed her eyed and sighed. She turned from Mitchell and faced Herrick. "Fine, fine." She pointed to him. "I'll let you. You can kill me." Herrick cocked his head as she continued. Her breath was shaking but she had to make sure everyone she cared about was going to be alright. "But . . . you leave Galway and never come back. You leave everyone in this place alone, you don't _touch_ anyone else . . . Deal?"_

_Herrick shot a look behind her to Mitchell and smiled menacingly before glancing back down to Brenna. "Actually, on second thoughts." He got closer and held her cheek. "I have bigger plans for you."_

_Her entire body clenched as his mouth went to her neck. She flinched as he bit down. This wasn't right, it wasn't normal and I certainly wasn't godly. Her blood seeped into his mouth and her limbs shook, telling her to run though she refused. She simply stood as everything went black. The last thing she thought about was her family; her parents and her siblings._

* * *

Murph and Mitchell sat on the sofa looking practically identical in their posture and attitude. They were both slouched on the sofa with their booted-feet crossed onto the coffee table. They were sat shoulder to shoulder with Mitchell reading a letter that had come through the post and Murph backing her phone up onto a memory card.

There was the sound of somebody coming down the stairs and both the vampires spoke without lifting their gazes. "Mornin' George."

He rounded the corner with a slightly confused look though the pair was unfazed by their unison. "Ah- um- ah. Morning?" he stuttered. They both nodded slightly, satisfied with George's reply.

George turned towards the kitchen to see Annie. "We have _two, _practically _identical, _Irish vampires in the house . . . that speak in _chorus_. What are the chances?" he said his last sentence with a false tone of happiness as passed the ghost in a bit of a huff.

Murph heard George's tone and looked up to Mitchell with slight sadness in her eyes. Mitchell smiled reassuringly. "Give him a few days, he'll be alright." She nodded and looked to Annie while Mitchell looked back to his letter- probably a bill.

"Hey!" Annie greeted as she plonked herself beside Murph.

"Hi." The vampire replied, sighing and placing her finished phone onto the coffee table beside her feet.

"Oh, did you get it sorted?" Annie asked, pointing to the phone.

Mitchell looked up suddenly. "Get what sorted?"

"My phone, I needed to save some numbers and things because the majority of them are saved onto my SIM." She explained to him. "Which reminds me, can you show me where the corner shop is? I'd like to buy a new card as soon as possible."

Mitchell nodded. "Sure, we can go now if you want?"

"Well I need a shower because that rain yesterday made my hair go mad."

He nodded. "Ok, well I'm ready when you are."

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**_Ok, so chapter 5. The title of this chapter 'And round her shoulders, was a Galway shawl' is from the classic Irish folk song called - no prizes for guessing- 'Galway Shawl'. Murph is from Galway so it fit. It's about a man who falls in love with a woman from Galway and though they have to part so he can go home to Donegal, it says how his heart remains with her- its really sweet. Pretty chuffed with the flashback though I know the ending was slightly boring. Only decided, like, yesterday to do a flashback and the last bit has been sitting on my laptop for about three days. Tell me what you think and thanks for reviewing, favouriting and following._**

**_I could not believe the ending of being human. It was so sweet when Hal looked in the mirror- even describing it to my friend made them go 'awwww'- but I only figured out the werewolf on the fireplace's meaning earlier today. Did anyone notice the fingerless gloves on the fireplace with the wolf and think 'Mitchell'. Anyway, I could rant about his all day so I won't keep you any longer. Na-night, hope you enjoyed the chapter._**


	6. Chapter 6- A Morning Walk

_**Chapter 6- A Morning Walk**_

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Murph had a shower and quickly got changed in Annie's room. She wrestled her hair into a rough ponytail and slipped into a pair of jeans. One of the- not so many- upsides to being a vampire was that she didn't put on weight and since she was turned at a time when there was never exactly and excess of food- no canned food or processed meat- she had a surprisingly good figure. She pulled a white vest top over her head and shrugged on a button-up shirt before grabbing her loosely laced combat boots from the gym bag and running down the stairs.

She turned into the front room to see Mitchell stood next to the fireplace staring at something in his wallet. "Y'alright?" she asked as she lean on the wall to steady herself as she pulled on her left boot.

Mitchell jumped and his head shot up, sending stray strands of dark hair flying against his face. He looked to her innocently. "Er, not'ing'." he slowly slopped his wallet into his back pocket. "We need some milk and George wants some bread."

Murph nodded. "Ok," she managed to pull on her shoe and quickly pulled on the other one as she hopped slightly and lost her balance but managed to stay upright. She straightened up and stomped her foot to push the boot on properly. She looked to Mitchell who was frozen, seeming to wonder if she was going to say anything about what he was doing with the wallet.

He was trying to hide something; she could see it in his eyes.

"We going then?" she asked and he seemed to relax.

"Yeah, sure." He walked forward and the pair walked out of the door.

The rain that had soaked Murph and Mitchell the day before had passed and had been replaced by the horribly strong sun. Both vampires had readily armed themselves with sunglasses and hats and walked briskly to the shop.

When they got there, there was a very bored looking woman at the checkout. She saw hem enter and stood up quickly. "Morning!" she greeted. She wasn't from Bristol; she didn't have the accent. She was young- possibly nineteen and probably covering for her father- and clearly hadn't had much business that morning.

"Mornin'" Murph said as she walked towards the woman. Mitchell simply nodded and went to get some bread and milk. "Do you sell SIM cards?" she asked and the woman beamed, glad that someone was actually interacting with her.

"Yes we do." She pulled up a rack from beneath the counter and Murph picked a simple Orange SIM which was even a change of network from her last one. "How much is that?" she asked.

"1 pound." She said.

Murph shrugged. "Then I'll take a lighter and a pack of 10 Marlboro too." She smiled and the woman opened the case to take out what she wanted and placed them on the counter next to the SIM card. "That's . . ." the woman put the prices into the checkout. "6 pound 45."

Murph pulled the money out of her wallet and waited for the change. She took the coins back and grabbed her items before leaning on the counter to wait for Mitchell. "Is he your boy friend?" the young woman's voice was suddenly in her ear and Murph practically jumped out of her skin.

She leapt away from the sound and held her hand to her chest. "Jaysus," she exclaimed, looking at the woman who was sporting an intrigued smile. "No, no he's not." She said, still regaining her breath from her fright.

"Then how the hell did you get to meet him? And how did you get so close?"

Murph was slightly shocked with the slightly personal questions but decided to answer. "I've known him for ages, he's a big help."

The woman crossed her arms on the desk. "Wow, you did well there."

She nodded with a smile. "I know." The two of them chuckled. For the first time, Murph genuinely looked at the young woman. She had dirty blonde hair and blue eyes and was wearing an All Time Low tee shirt underneath a green jumper with a white zip. She had thick black eye liner on and earphones were hanging out of her collar. She was actually quite pretty.

"What about you?" Murph asked simply. "Do you have a boy friend?"

She sighed. "Yeah, he's a bit of an arse though."

"Murph?" Mitchell suddenly said. "Did we need any teabags or coffee last time you checked?"

"Yeah, teabags." She said back and looked to the woman. "He might look decent but he's absolutely useless." The two of them laughed.

A moment later Mitchell was behind Murph as he placed milk, bread and teabags on the counter. Murph smiled at him and he smiled back as the woman calculated the cost of Mitchell's items. "That's 4 pound 30 please." Mitchell got out his wallet and paid as his things were placed in a carrier bag.

Mitchell took the bag and the two of them started to leave. "See ya." The woman said.

"Have a nice day." Murph said back.

The two vampires walked out and Mitchell chuckled. Murph stared at him. "What?" she asked genuinely interested in what he was going to say.

"Congratulations." He said with his head held high as he threw his arm over her shoulder.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" she asked as she leant on his chest.

"You officially survived your first proper human encounter since Sarah."

Murph thought about this for a moment before chuckling. "Guess I did." She said with a smile. They kept their heads down to shelter themselves from the attacking sun. Murph hugged Mitchell's torso and smiled as they walked.

That's when she remembered his wallet. She glanced up to Mitchell, who was preoccupied with not setting her hair alight as he sparked his cigarette. She slowly moved her hand to his back pocket and felt the leather of his wallet.

She took a slow breath and quickly pulled the item from his pocket. Mitchell yelped at the feel of someone touching his back pocket and released Murph who looked proudly at her prize. "Ah ha!" she said, pointing at him. "Now let's see what you're hiding in here."

Mitchell realised what was happening and outstretched his hand. "Give it back." He warned.

Murph smirked and opened it. Mitchell pounced but she dodged him and felt the glare he threw at her.

She looked at what was inside.

Credit card. Lottery ticket. A card for the Bristol Irish Society. A few cash notes.

Mitchell tried to grab the wallet but she just put her back to him and he was already too late.

The last item hade her stop.

It was a picture of her. Taken while she was still human and cut from family portrait she had. She had given it to Mitchell the first time they decided to part ways. She just assumed he'd thrown it away.

She looked at him with her mouth agape.

He tried to make excuses but couldn't get the words out.

She just closed the wallet and threw it back to him with her expression still blank.

She wasn't annoyed that he'd kept it, in fact she was quite flattered, she was just shocked and it was the last thing she expected. If anyone else had kept a picture of her she would have ripped it up but it didn't bother her that Mitchell had it.

"I . . . um . . . You can have it back if you want, I mean-" he tried to blurt out words.

She rolled her eyes. "Mitch, shut up." She said with a smile as she turned to face him. He looked at her, confused.

She chuckled to herself as she pulled her own wallet out. She threw it to him and looked down.

When she had given him her picture he had given her his army recruitment picture in return. There were a few times when she thought she was silly keeping hold of it but knowing that he still kept her picture was enough to make her feel fine.

Mitchell looked at her and then back to the picture. Murph sighed. "Do _you _want _your_ picture back?"

He stared at the wallet for a moment. "No." He said simply and Murph smiled.

"Then I don't want mine back." She held out his wallet and he took it as he passed hers back.

She smiled up at him and he smirked back.

Murph's insides turned to soot.

There was a sudden vibration in her pocket and she stopped her thoughts. Mitchell looked at her with a confused expression. "Are you alright?" he asked, standing in front of her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't answer but simply pulled out her phone. She unlocked it and pulled up the message. It was from the same unknown number but the message was blank.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a second. She had no idea who the messages were from and they were really freaking her out. As if she wasn't already about to snap, getting messages from somebody who was just plain taunting her were going to make her lose her mind. George was right, she was dangerous- she was going to hurt someone.

"What did it say?" Mitchell's voice pulled her out of her thought process. She opened her eyes and looked up to him.

"Not'in'." He cocked an eyebrow. "No, it literally says nothing. It's a blank _feckin'_ text." Her voice rose and Mitchell's spare hand went to her other shoulder. She felt the pressure of his fingers and calmed slightly. She blinked quickly and took a soothing breath before plunging her hand into her pocket and pulling out the lighter.

She placed the plastic end in her mouth and left the lighter there while she pushed the back off of her phone. She slipped out her old SIM card and placed her phone and the back in her pocket. She gripped onto the card and grabbed her lighter again.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she sparked the flame and held the SIM card to the heat.

"I'm not lettin' them get to the point where they start calling me up." She said as the card began to shrivel and bubble. Eventually, it started burning her fingertips so she had to drop it. She simply stopped the lighter and kicked the remainder of the card into the nearest drain.

She looked up to Mitchell. "Feel better?" he asked.

She sighed and smiled at him. "Yup." She said simply.

She placed her new SIM card into her phone and put it away while it started configuring. She pulled the pack of cigarettes out and sparked one.

"Oh!" Mitchell suddenly exclaimed. "I need your help tonight." He said and Murph cocked her eyebrow as she neck craned away from him. He rolled his eyes. "Not like that. It's . . . uh . . . it's a full moon tonight."

She relaxed. "Ok, well how do you need my help?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Well, George is still a little bit unsure about how safe the unit is and he- for some reason- t'inks it's better if I sit outside. Ya know, to make sure he doesn't get out and that nobody wanders in."

"So you want me to be there so you don't get bored?" she said simply.

He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I can't guarantee I'll stay awake though." She shot him a smirk and he gave her a relieved smiled back.

"T'ank you." He said honestly as they walked the rest of the way home. Murph with new found sense of security and Mitchell with a sense that Murph could be helping him too.

* * *

_**Ok, honestly, that was a bit of a filler chapter. It took me ages to squeeze this out and it took me ages to write because I had almost no satisfaction in writing it but it had to be done because Murph needed a new SIM. But anyway! Tell me what you think and favourite and follow... please! **_

_**PS- happy (extremely late) Saint Patricks Day, hope you all had fun. And (on a slightly more depressing note) goodbye MCR! Been listening to their songs for three days straight. But now I wanna listen to Frank Turner (who I'm seeing in friggin' concert in April (can't wait)) and The Script (who I saw in concert earlier on this month (they were fab!)). So my current playlist is My Chemical Romance, Frank Turner and The Script. My personal favourites at the minute are Teenagers, Welcome To The Black Parade, Sing and Na Na Na (MCR) Rock and Roll Romance, A Decent Cup Of Tea, Back To Sleep and If Ever I Stray (Frank Turner) Nothing, Glowing and You Won't Feel A Thing (The Script). Check them out if you're interested. **_


	7. Chapter 7- Sandwiches and Sofa Cushions

**_ Wow, It would appear that I owe you all a huge apology. I don't know how many of you were waiting for this but if you were, I won't keep you any longer._**

* * *

_Chapter 7 - Sandwiches and Sofa Cushions_

The evening came quicker than expected. Murph had spent the day talking to Annie who was more than happy to chat with her. When Mitchell came running down the stairs swearing like a sailor, Murph had been more than taken off guard.

That's how she found herself running down the street with Mitchell and George with a small blue bag with sandwiches in it grasped tightly in her hand. The sun had set and they had no more than five minutes before the moon started to peak in the night sky.

They must have looked like some proper weirdo's; Mitchell was gripping two floral cushions because the floor was hard where they had to sit and George was holding a rucksack and screaming occasionally while Murph was holding the sandwiches and a packet of crisps for George in the morning. They passed a fair few groups of people who gave them funny looks.

Mitchell ended up grabbing George's forearm and coaxing him through the door and into the cell. He collapsed onto his knees and screamed. Mitchell slammed the door shut and locked it. George stopped screaming for a second and managed to squeeze his shirt over his head and shake himself out of his trousers and boxers.

"Mitchell," he said in a pleading voice. "I . . . I don't wanna do this."

Murph watched as Mitchell grabbed onto the small hatch with sympathy knitting his eyebrows together. "George, you'll be alright, ok?" Murph swallowed as his supportive tone. If that's how he acted with George then there must have been something from George in return, Murph was warmed by the fact that Mitchell had someone he could fully rely on . . . not like her. "It'll just be some pain and then it'll all be over and the next thing you'll remember is waking up. Ok? You'll be alright." Mitchell said through the bars.

She didn't hear George's reply as she couldn't see him but he didn't say anything against Mitchell so she assumed he was convinced.

Mitchell looked to her and she saw the pain in his deep brown eyes. She gave him a sympathetic smile and simply held out the floral cushion. He chuckled quietly and nodded as she handed it to him and they both sat down.

Murph placed her head on his shoulder and she felt him relax as he sighed. They sat and listened to the rips and the cracks and the screeches as George's body morphed into the opposite of what it had previously been. Everything was quiet for a moment but another agonising crack filled the air followed by a scream and Murph jumped as Mitchell grasped her hand, squeezing tight.

She looked to him to see his eyes screwed shut and his entire body tense. She smiled to herself sadly. "It hurts you to see him in pain doesn't it?" she said just so he could hear.

His eyes opened and his head shot round to look at her. His eyebrows were knitted in slight confusion at the question that he wasn't prepared for. "Umm," he said, dragging out the sound and wincing as there was another tear of muscle. "Yes." He said quietly. "Almost as much as it would if you were in pain." He admitted.

Sympathy sewed itself into Murph's expression and her mouth gaped a little. She swallowed and looked away. "I try not to think about you being in pain." She said. "I've seen it too many times before." He looked away too, staring at his boots. "I can see it now." She said gently. "It's in your eyes. Lingering." He looked back up to her. "Some people may not say it but I've know you for too long to keep it to myself."

Everything was momentarily quiet from George and the full moon was casting a light through the far window. If Murph was human she would have been slightly scared of the dingy, dank underground cell and rooms surrounding it.

She sighed. "Why George? What about him attracted _you _of all people?"

He chuckled. "I'm not sure; he's the complete opposite of me. He gets it . . . most of the time." There was a growl from inside and Mitchell shot up, jolting Murph's head from resting on his shoulder. He stared into the darkness before quickly sitting down again. Murph looked to him expectantly and Mitchell nodded. "The wolf's out."

There was an ear piercing howl and Murph jumped as the door behind her jolted with the weight of the wolf hitting it. She looked with fearful eyes to the vampire next to her and he smiled. "It's alright." He placed his arm over her shoulder. She leant into his chest, wishing that she could feel his warmth. She rubbed her fingerless gloved hands together before tucking them between their bodies.

They sat there, neither speaking a word as they each enjoyed the others presence. After a few minutes, Murph could almost feel Mitchell's thoughts. He took a breath. "Have you t'ought about who it could be who was messagin' you?"

Murph had expected the question at some point so she answered. "Yes."

He looked slightly taken aback that she had been thinking about it. He knew Murph well and to say that she was dismissive was a severe under-exaggeration. She tried not to linger on things, unless it was extremely important or unavoidable. "Why are ye so good at hiding when somet'ing's botherin' ye?" he asked, going slightly of subject. She looked up to him, sorrow in her emerald eyes before she shrugged and looked back to her shoes. She didn't want to talk about it. The years on her own, trying to be normal . . . to act human, had had a huge effect on how she acted and how she hid things and facades were her speciality. Not that Mitchell could talk; he had a pretty convincing one as well it's just that – like all women – Murph was better at noticing things that were wrong than he was. He sighed. "so who do you t'ink was doin' it?" he asked.

She gnawed on her lip, ignoring the loud bang from the cell behind her. "Do you remember a guy called Sam Clayton?" she asked and Mitchell frowned.

"No, should I?"

She shook her head. "Probably not, we were on a bit of a roll in the 50's." Mitchell scoffed. It wasn't a lie, the mid-century was all a bit of a blur to both of them and he could only remember snippets where he wasn't completely out of it. He waited for her to continue."We killed his girlfriend and were goin' to kill him but Herrick thought he'd be better if we turned him and made him remember t'at his girlfriend died before his eyes. It was sick; I don't know why we did it."

An image flashed tough Mitchell's head. "Oh!" he exclaimed, recognising the face. "Right, tall guy." He gestured with his hands. "Blond hair, quite well built?"

She nodded. "That's the one." She chuckled at how proud Mitchell was with himself that he'd remembered but the smile slowly disappeared. "Well he always blamed me, do ye remember?" Mitchell nodded. "And I haven't heard anyt'ing about him in quite a few years, I t'ought maybe he'd been staked. He never seemed to be very secretive about his kills. He probably got on Herrick's nerves." She took a breath. "But then a saw him a few weeks ago, I hadn't even fully registered it until I was thinking about it yesterday. He seems like the most likely person to be sending me the messages."

Mitchell nodded. "I'll keep an eye out."

She smiled, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "T'anks."

Silence ensued, nothing but the sound of breathing and the occasional grunt of growl from the wolf inside the cell. George was not the first werewolf that Murph had met and he wasn't he first one she had been in a close proximity with. There had been a female wolf she had known a decade or two before but she hadn't been around for long. Murph's shoulders shook with goosebumps thought she wasn't sure if it was due to the revelation of how many people left her or if it was just the cold. She decided on the latter as it was easier to admit.

Murph felt sleep begin to seep into her vision and Mitchell noticed, moving his back onto the doorframe so she could rest her head on his chest, just under his collar bone and lean against the door at her back.

She closed her eyes, feeling Mitchell place a soft kiss to her temple before she was engulfed in some much needed sleep.

* * *

Mitchell woke to the sound of a very angry car horn from the street above. He heard a feminine groan from his side as Murph fidgeted. "Why are you so like a horse?" She asked randomly and he snorted as the remark.

Murph chuckled sleepily. "See." She commented on the rather horse-like sound he had just made.

"How am I like a horse?" he asked.

Murph opened her eyes, looking up to him. "I swear t'at you just jumped a mile at that car horn and then you snorted. You seem to prance around a lot too."

Mitchell pulled an unappreciative face. "I don't _prance._" He said defensively.

She shrugged. "Maybe not as much as George, but you prance a little bit."

He pondered over this for a minute. "Fine, maybe a little."

There was a strained cough from inside the cell and Mitchell shot up, once more surprising Murph and pulling her fully into wakefulness.

"Mitchell?" Came George's tired voice.

Murph decided to stay sat down due to the fact that she was aware of George's indecent clothing situation.

"Did I . . .? Did _it_ do anything?"

"No, you were fine." The vampire replied. "Do you want your clothes?"

George must have just nodded because Mitchell began to unlock the door and pass clothes through to George. When George was done, he stepped out and looked down to Murph.

The female vampire stood up and swallowed, noticing Mitchell cast glances between her and George.

The werewolf decided to speak first. "I'm . . ." he straightened himself up and attempted to stop the panicking tone in his voice. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

She smiled reassuringly. "It was more _hear _than _see_. And it was not'in' I haven't been around before." George relaxed, comforted by Murph's words. "You handled it well actually, I've seen much worse."

George swallowed and nodded. "Thanks."

Murph shrugged and held out the sandwiches in her hand. "Breakfast?"

* * *

_**I'm once again going to **_**_apologize. It's safe to say that I struggled with this chapter and it probably showed. please review because I've updated this today because I had the encouragement in a few reviews I've received lately. it's no word of a lie that I say that reviews and follows and favourites keep me going so much. the more reviews the story gets, the more I think about the story and the quicker the updates. So please please please review. _**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Draining

**Chapter 8 - The Draining**

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Murph sat in the interview room, her hands wringing nervously in her lap. The skinny blonde woman was sat behind her desk, intently reading Murph's CV like she was trying to find _any_ possible problems, like she was hoping she'd find one.

The Irish woman had no idea why, but the blonde had disliked her as soon as she walked in the room. Murph had even dug out one of the only dresses she owned in an attempt to look vaguely professional and aid her in the job interview. But the moment the blonde had set eyes on her, her persona changed. She asked her in, told her to simply sit down and then proceeded to ignore her for fifteen minutes as the read and reread the CV.

Caroline Young was the blondes name; she was wearing her nurse's uniform and was in her early to mid thirties. She had naturally blonde hair but it'd had so much heat treatment that it was beginning to resemble straw. Her makeup was simple but obvious nonetheless and Murph tried to see if she was engaged or married but saw no rings on her fingers.

Caroline looked up, unimpressed by something about Murph that even the girl herself didn't know what it was. She tapped the base of the sheets against her desk and placed them to the side. "So," she said, with perfect pronunciation. "Have you ever worked in a hospital before?"

Part of Murph was surprised that she hadn't just been kicked out before the questions. "Ah," she dragged the sound out as she thought. "No but I've worked as a receptionist for-"

"Six months, yes, I know. I have _read _your CV."

Murph shrank in her seat, her nails digging into the palm of her hand out of the paranoia of being scolded again by Caroline. She could feel a vast hatred for this woman developing deep in the pit of her stomach and she had to silence a growl in the base of her throat.

"Why should you get this job?" she asked, almost indifferently causing the six words to seem ten times more intimidating.

Murph swallowed. "I've had many jobs that involve using people skills and I'm sure this'll be no exception so I have plenty of practice. I can speak the basics of three languages – not counting English and I live nearby so I can cover shifts if I get called in."

The woman sighed, like she'd been trying to find something and had to accept that it was lost. "Have you had any medical training?"

"Not officially but I worked in a few medical related jobs like-"

"A care home and a school, _I know_." She cut off once causing Murph's teeth to clench and her head to cock slightly. She really wanted the hurt her and knew that Mitchell being outside the room was the only thing stopping her from attacking the woman where she sat.

"Have you had any first aid training?" she asked like she couldn't care less.

"Yes, I've been on courses for most of the jobs I've had."

Caroline looked shocked by this new information like she'd expected Murph to be the type of person who thought that mandatory courses were beneath her. Sadly the fact that she had in fact taken part in first aid courses didn't change the blondes overall perspective.

The human took a deep, heaving breath like she was pained. "It would seem, Miss Murphy, that you are the best out of the few applications we've received. You've got the job."

Murph was shell-shocked, her eyes had widened and she'd completely frozen, unable to form coherent words. "Ah- ah- um. Wow." She managed to push herself up to stand and shake Caroline's hand. "Thank you."

She ignored her hand and simply wrote a few details on a small piece of paper. "You start next Monday, 6 in the evening. There's no room for slacking in our hospital miss Murphy and we'll set you to work straight away." She handed the paper to the Irish woman and gestured to the door for her to leave.

Murph did as she bade, confusion evident on her face. Mitchell rushed to her. "How did it go? Did you get the job?" he asked quickly but Murph was wrapped in her thoughts, like she was checking that the previous 20 minutes had actually happened.

She pushed her emerald eyes up to Mitchell's brown ones that were staring expectantly. "So?" he asked.

"I got the job." She said disbelievingly. "I actually got the job."

Mitchell engulfed her in a hug and spun her around, causing joyous laughter to erupt from her throat. When he placed her down he gripped her shoulders. "T'at's great." There was a loud cough from behind them and they turned to see Caroline with her arms crossed over her chest looking extremely unimpressed. "I do believe that we are currently in a hospital." She said. "And some of our patients _won't _appreciate a celebration in the middle of their ward."

Both vampires straightened themselves up. "Right." Mitchell said.

"Sorry." Murph finished.

"I suggest you leave before having another celebration." She said and they both quickly walked away.

They glanced back at the office and saw that she was gone and couldn't help the scoffs and chuckles that escaped them as they started down the stairs.

* * *

Murph pulled the hood of her jumper up against the onslaught of rain and hunched her shoulders. She quite like the rain, it was strangely comforting and relaxing as she looked at the rather boring road that they lived on. The doorstep had practically become part of the recognisable furniture for her and Mitchell, being the usual place that they sat together when a cigarette was a necessity.

She felt the door move from her back and surprised her as she tried to keep herself upright. "Oh!" Mitchell said. "I was looking for you." He said as she closed the door and fell into his seat beside her.

She saw his rolled cigarette and held out her lighter which he took thankfully. He simply made a sound vaguely resembling thanks and Murph accepted it, not even thinking twice. She and Mitchell had reached that point in their relationship where simple manners weren't even necessary.

"Why were you looking for me?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I found one of your old records – Black Flag I t'ink it was."

She looked at him like he'd given her baffling news. "So you've had it?"

"Not knowingly!" he exclaimed, taking a drag of the cigarette.

"I've been wondering where that was for, like, fifteen years. What else have you got of mine?" she asked with faux astonishment.

He scoffed. "Quite a few t'ings actually." He informed.

"Like?!"

He blew air through his lips. "Ach, I dunno now. Um, a few of your drawings." She brushed those off, they weren't important but she was interested in what else he had. "I have one of your rosaries in a box somewhere. I only know it's in there because I wrote on the box." She wasn't too bothered by that either, she could hardly wear it. "Oh! I've got your baptism bracelet!"

Her eyes widened. "Y-you've got my baptism bracelet?!" He nodded. "No way! Do you know where it is?"

He nodded. "I've got it in a drawer."

"Awesome." She said, suddenly perked up by the fact that she was going to get her bracelet back. "Tell me when you find it." She took a gasp of the cigarette and hunched a little more against the rain.

The pair heard footsteps and looked to the left to see George walking up the road. "Where've you been?" Mitchell asked.

George sighed gestured in the direction he had come from. "I went for a walk and got caught in the rain. There's a storm coming." He informed and Mitchell and Murph both frowned.

"How do you know t'at?" Mitchell asked.

George stopped walking and pointed in the direction he was facing. Both vampires looked over and saw the black clouds brewing in the sky.

Murph let out a single laugh. "T'at'll be how he knew." She said, taking another drag of the cigarette and blowing it out in a slow plume above her head.

"T'at's gonna cause some problems with the draining." Mitchell murmured, making Murph chuckle as her looked up to the drainpipes lining the roof of the house.

"Problems with the power too." Murph added.

"I hate power cuts." George said in a high pitched voice, like her truly dreaded the idea of being stuck in the dark.

Murph shrugged. "I dunno, I quite like the dark."

"You would say that." The vampire next to her said causing her to scoff and elbow him in the side. Mitchell laughed and looked down to her, his persona changed with the agreeing tone in his voice. "I get what you mean, it's . . ." he looked into the middle distance. "Calming." He said. "The dark. It's like you're sleeping, you can just block everything out."

Murph nodded. "Exactly." She liked the moments where Mitchell put her exact feelings into words. He could practically describe every little detail and it made her feel like her connection with Mitchell was stronger than ever when in those moments.

She smiled and took the last gasp of the cigarette before stubbing the bud out.

* * *

_**Ok, so Chapter 8. What did you think? I really need to know because I'm not exactly breezing through this and I'm having to find little things to give me inspiration. This Chapter only came out because I wrote a note on my Ipod regarding Murph's job. this chapter was going to be one of the more depressing in Murph's storyline but I decided that quite a few chapters now have had that depressing-ness lurking in the background so a bit of a more positive chapter was in need of writing. So Pleaase review cuz I really need some kind of thing to tell me that what I'm doing her is actually worth it. **_


	9. Chapter 9 - The Oncoming Storm

**_Chapter 9 - The Oncoming Storm_**

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The dark of night had seeped in before the storm rolled in. The four occupants of the house had been sat watching The Real Hustle when the first lightening strike had hit followed closely by a clap of monstrous thunder. Murph found it rather humorous that everyone, including herself, had jumped out of their skin – George even yelped.

Murph glanced up to Mitchell. Having lived as long as they had, the two vampires had seen their fair share of thunder storms and this was a bad one. They had been in the middle of storms that had bought hail that broke the glass of windows and the screens of cars, they had sought shelter from storms that had blown the tiles from roofs and ripped trees from the ground. They were very diverse in their knowledge of storms and they knew _this was a bad one._

George let out a nervous chuckle and Annie smiled reassuringly. "My mum used to freak out in thunder storms." She informed. "We used to have to turn everything off at the plug. 'Turn off the lights!' she used to say. 'Unplug everything!'" she imitated her mother's voice and shook her hands in the air to show how much her mother used to panic.

Murph sighed internally to think that Annie's mother was likely acting exactly the same at that moment about the thunder storm they were presently in and Annie wasn't alive to experience the things that would have been classed as normal.

There was another flash and clap of thunder.

She felt sorry for the ghost. She had begun to realise that Annie was like glue, she was the emulsifier combining two ingredients that would usually refuse to come together. She was a binding medium, a force in the middle pulling North and South together. It was rather beautiful, the part she played in Mitchell and George's relationship. Murph admired her in more ways than one.

"Tea?" the ghost asked with faux cheer. "Everything's better with tea." Jumping slightly as another flash illuminated the room.

She received confirmations from all three of them as they went back to watching their show. They'd just got to the part where they found out how they were going to use a device in a computer to get bank details when the power cut out.

Murph and Mitchell had been expecting the power cut for quite some time so it didn't surprise them when they were suddenly plunged into total darkness. No matter how many power cuts you live through, you never remember just how dark it is when all power stops; when there is no second hand light from other houses or street lights, just _darkness._ It would have made them groan about missing the real hustle had their attention not been averted by a loud clash from the kitchen. "Are you alright Annie?" Mitchell called.

"Yeah." She said slightly nervously. "I dropped a mug."

Mitchell stood up in the pitch black, Murph wouldn't have known had she not felt him move from her side, his body heat being replaced with the cold of the room. "Do you have any candles?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get to the kitchen and find them. Can I borrow yer phone?" she dug in her pockets and eventually found it (in her back pocket for some reason) and turned up the brightness. She handed it to Mitchell, his fingers brushing hers as he took the device and turned the screen in front of him to guide where he was going.

Murph listened as he asked Annie if she was alright and then rummaged around in cupboards to find candles. She sighed and slumped into the sofa that she was still calling her bed and felt George shift next to her.

Since the last full moon, her relationship with George had been much better. She'd only supported him but she guessed that that was all it took for him. He still looked at her cautiously though. She felt a glimmer of anger spark in her stomach but she quashed it, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

She heard Mitchell's heavy footsteps as he walked back in and opened her eyes again. Annie was close behind him, each of them carrying an assortment of different candles. Murph took some from Mitchell and George from Annie. Soon enough, almost every surface was covered in tea lights and tall candles that needed to have their bases melted with a lighter to get them to stand and fat candles that smelt like different things. It was rather pretty.

Mitchell and Murph took up their seats on the floor and Murph started reading her dog-eared copy of On Silent Wings. Mitchell chuckled at her side. "How long have you had that book?" he asked when she looked at him with an inquiring look.

"Well, it only came out fifteen years ago." She explained.

"_Really?!_" he exclaimed. "It feels like ages ago." He said.

"I know, right?" she said going back to the page she was on. "I've got older books. I've got the four Sherlock Holmes novels that I bought in 1928."

"Oh, I can remember you buying them." He smiled. "You eyed 'em up for two weeks before finding enough money to buy them, you sighed every time you walked past the book shop." He chuckled, remembering her chewing on her lip and toying on whether she should buy them or not. He smiled into the air and then bought himself back, placing his arm around her shoulders.

She moved into him and tried to catch the candle light on the page of the battered book. She could feel Mitchell reading over her shoulder and it caused her to smile.

She barely paid any attention to Annie and George's conversation on fabric softener but she knew that they couldn't decide between Lenor and Comfort.

"Have you had anyt'ing new on your phone?" Mitchell asked and Murph went to turn the page.

She finished the sentence before looking to him. "Ah, no." She said. "I doubt they'll do anyt'ing now. It'd probably be too much effort and you know how lazy vampires are."

Mitchell chuckled.

They sat there for at least an hour; Mitchell just seemed to stare into thin air while Murph went back to her book. George had fallen asleep and Annie was trying to get her head around Murph's IPod.

It was as the lights came back on that Murph felt it. It boiled in her stomach and started to run through her veins, she could feel her muscles tensing with the instinct to track. To hunt. _To kill. _She let out a shuddering breath to cool the heat in her lungs. It burnt to fight it, there was a creature inside her that was attempting to claw its way out and it hurt to deny it of its right to run free.

"Murph?" she barely heard his voice as she screwed her eyes shut. _"Murphy?"_ he gripped her shoulders. "Brenna!" She opened her eyes with a strained breath and met his concerned eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked and she shook her head, grabbing her knees and pulling them impossibly further into her chest.

Mitchell grabbed her hand. "Annie, we're going upstairs." He said to the ghost, not really paying attention as he hauled Murph to her feet. Annie glanced up as they disappeared up the stairs; she cocked an eyebrow slightly but then went back to the IPod.

Mitchell pulled Murph into his bedroom and sat her on his bed.

"It's coming." She whispered. "The hunger's coming."

Mitchell moved onto his knees, placing his hands on her knees. "Murph? Murph, look at me." He said and she managed to focus on his face. "You're going to be alright. It'd not you who wants to kill; it's the vampire _inside _you. This is the hardest part; it's easier when the hunger's over. We've done this before, we can do it now. Yes?"

She nodded.

Mitchell shook her slightly. "I need you to say it." He said, slowly.

Murph swallowed. "We've done it before . . . we can do it now." She forced out. Mitchell frowned. "That's not _you_ talking." He said. "Look!" he said, authority clear in his voice. He could see it wasn't fully her; there wasn't enough emotion in her face for it to be her. "I need _you to say it, _Murph. I need Murph to say it, _my Murph_."

She swallowed, sorrow clear in her eyes. "_We've done it before, we can do it again."_ There was no waver in her voice, no hesitation. It was Murph.

Mitchell smiled and engulfed her in a hug that she willingly took, burying her head in his neck. It felt right to be there, with him, in his arms.

But the sorrow at what she had done, what she could do bought the sobs that she couldn't stop from wracking her body. His grip around her body tightened and her tears soaked into his shirt. he'd seen her cry before but this was different, this was worse than he'd ever seen. she felt like all the power had left her. He knew that feeling all too well and it was _never _a good start.

"Help me Mitch." She managed to say. "I need help."

He felt sympathy and understanding ripple though his body. "I will, Murph. I'm not gonna go anywhere." It wasn't just words, it was a promise, he never wanted to leave her alone again.

* * *

**_hmm, so. what did you think? I'm not too keep on writing crying scenes but I figured that it fit considering how many emotions Murph should be feeling. You definitely wouldn't have gotten this today had I not received the reviews that I've had. XscouselondonerX and Apocaliptic-Ink for your comments that genuinely helped, and Dalonega Noquisi, who's commented on every chapter bar one so far. All reviews are much appreciated but these were the ones that actually made me want to pick up the laptop again. Thank you all so much, Please review because you have no idea how inspiring it is._**


	10. Chapter 10 - Relapse

**_Chapter 10 - Relapse_**

* * *

It was going to be a bad day. Murph had lived through way too many lazy days and this particular one was going to be one of the worst. The full impact of what she had done to Sarah had finally hit her. The morning sun was seeping though the curtains but Murph couldn't tell the difference between then and two hours before when she had been staring at the same spot on the ceiling. When Mitchell came downstairs, he'd noticed straight away that it was going to be a hard day for the woman that he safely called a friend. He could tell that she hadn't slept much so before he even put the kettle on boil, he moved over to her and engulfed her in a hug that she willingly accepted.

After a few moments he pulled back. "Go and sleep in my bed. I'll tell George and Annie so nobody'll disturb you. Try and get some sleep." She looked up to him with sadness in her deep green eyes. Mitchell knew the stages that Murph went through when she started drinking again because they were rather similar to what he did when he did the same. Regret, Denial, Ignorance, Sorrow, Realisation, Depression, Admittance, Anger and finally Relapse. He knew that the last few would go quickly, she was currently at Sorrow and he knew that the next five steps would be taken within the next few hours. He knew that it was best to leave her and just be there if she needed him.

He watched as she stood up and plodded her way up the stairs and felt empathy tug at his feelings. He jumped when Annie appeared before him. "Tea?" she announced rather loudly causing Mitchell to push his finger to her lips and Annie looked taken aback like a scolded dog. He gestured upstairs. "Murph didn't sleep much last night, so I told her to sleep in my bed."

Annie nodded her understanding.

Murph collapsed on the bed. She was more than able to pass by Mitchell's untidiness considering that this was the third time she had lived with him and she had seen much, much worse. The blinds were drawn which was a good start due to the fact that she could feel a headache developing and sunlight would just make it ten times worse. She stripped of her jumper and hugged Mitchell's pillow, drawing in his scent like a drug and using the familiarity to relax her mind.

Within seconds she was deep in sleep.

Murph had slept the entire day away and when it got to the time where Mitchell and George needed to go to work, the vampire left a note in his quick scrawl on his bedside table.

_'Gone to work. Call me if you need me. You'll be OK, promise. – Mitch."_ He knew that she wouldn't be in the best state of being when she woke up so before he left he told Annie to get hold of him if she woke up. "There are no guarantees that she'll be competent enough to so much as pick up the phone let alone be in a mood to talk to me." He said quickly, trying to speak quietly enough so that George didn't hear and get worried.

Annie nodded her understanding. "Should I try and stop her if she goes to leave?"

"That shouldn't happen but if it does, call me straight away. Don't try and keep her in the house, it'll make things worse." He went to leave but turned back quickly. "She won't hurt you Annie, I doubt she'll hurt anyone but . . ." he casted a glance up the stairs and sighed. "I've gotta be here, she'd do the same for me."

* * *

_Monday, 12 January 1920, somewhere in Ireland - _

_Her eyes stayed glued to her boots as her arms wrapped awkwardly over her knees, flattening down her dress as she did so. She'd always hated corners but this corner was nice and safe, she had a horrible feeling that she would have to get a lot more used to corners, and the floor._

_There was an almost inaudible sound from the other side of the cell – for lack of a better word – and her emerald eyes shot up to the cause of it. Mitchell met her gaze, he cocked his head slightly and she pulled her head away to force herself further into the corner._

_Mitchell sighed, she hadn't moved since she'd woken up, blood still soaked the collar of her dress and her hair was still in its unruly mass of waves. They hadn't said a word to each other, Herrick had been the only one to communicate with her and the conversation hadn't been two way. She just stared. That was all she did. Stare._

_He didn't blame her for being distant. He had seen the rosaries around her neck and read the Prayer for Forgiveness on her lips as she mouthed it to herself with tears in her eyes, he suspected that – like most in northern Ireland – she had been raised Catholic and if she had then he knew that the entire supernatural world had been something she had expelled from her imagination let alone thinking it could be possible to become part of it._

_He sighed in sympathy for her as she buried her forehead in her knees, taking deep breaths to stop any sobs that threatened to finally hit._

_His attention was suddenly pulled away as he heard footsteps from outside the cell. He noticed Brenna tense and try to force herself further into the concrete wall. The bolt on the opposite side of the heavy metal door opened with a violent clank and the door creaked open. A whimper left Brenna's lips as her breathing became ragged._

_Herrick strolled into the room, clapping his hands once and making Brenna jump. "Now!" he announced. "How are we this morning?" that same false happiness was back and it made Mitchell sigh, he knew that Herrick had something horrible planned._

_The Englishman strolled forward and crouched before the young woman who craned her neck as far away from him as possible. "Have you felt it yet?" he whispered. "The hunger?" Mitchell could see in her eyes that she had, he noticed the realisation of the fact that that was what it was. Hunger. She wanted something to eat. "Has it risen in your stomach? Can you feel it running through your blood? Compelling you to kill?"_

_She shook her head frantically, trying to expel the thoughts from her head._

_Herrick sighed and stood up, moving back towards the door and reaching out. When he was fully in the room again, there was a young man being hauled behind him. He placed the man in the centre of the room and Mitchell watched as the man shook out of fear._

_Herrick stared at Brenna. "I want you to kill him." He said, in that strange tone that made any sentence sound like an order. Mitchell crossed his arms over his chest. Brenna once again tried to move backwards but was already flat against the wall._

_She stared at the human but tore her eyes away when she realised that her fangs had pierced her gums. She forced her face into the ruffles of her shirt and shut her eyes as hard as possible. When she looked back up her eyes were that entrancing emerald green once more._

_Herrick growled and went to snatch her arm but she dodged and was before Mitchell before he could register her movements. "Help me please." She begged, tears pooling in her eyes as she fell to her knees and gripped onto his trouser legs. "Please. Please don't make me do it." He frowned and swallowed._

_For the first time in a while he felt powerless. Everything else other than her request seemed petty; nothing else mattered other than getting her out of there without becoming a murderer. But he couldn't, because Herrick was there and he could do absolutely nothing to help._

_Herrick grabbed the human and bit harshly into his neck. The smell of blood soaked the room and Mitchell had to concentrate to make sure his own eyes didn't seep black. Brenna's face went blank but she managed to look up one final pleading time with her human eyes before the back crept in. Herrick groaned and gripped her by the hair to force her towards the human, who whimpered at the close proximity of Brenna and Herrick. The older vampire forced her upon his bleeding neck but she never stopped struggling. She refused to swallow, she grabbed anything she could, she pushed against the human and lashed at Herrick, pulling at his fingers on the back of her head._

_But eventually she swallowed._

_And the room turned calm._

_When he was sure she was safely latched onto the humans bleeding throat, Herrick released both of them, holding his arms out in triumph and looking to Mitchell proudly. He took a step back, admiring his work before looking back to Mitchell._

_Mitchell swallowed and looked away._

_Herrick smiled and joined him watching the display before them._

_Mitchell couldn't stop staring. She had fallen to her knees again, taking the limp body of the man with her, he was long dead. He was gripping frantically onto his shirt trying to get a better hold, Mitchell sighed. Only moments ago, she had been latched onto _his _clothes, begging to keep her humanity. Now it was gone._

_After a while she dropped the drained body, the shell of the human rolling from her knees and onto the cold floor. She stared at him, with empty eyes, unbelieving of what she had done. She let out a short sob._

_Herrick turned to Mitchell. "Clean up the body. Do what you want with her now; she'll be sticking with you. You'll make a fantastic pair." He laughed joyously before leaving the cell._

_Mitchell checked he was gone before rushing to the crying girl and enveloping her in a tight hug that she willingly accepted._

* * *

Murph pulled the jacket around her torso to battle off the oncoming rain. She bought the cigarette to her lips and took a gasp of the nicotine. She'd managed to successfully get out of the house without Annie following her; the dilemma was _where to go._

She turned down the side of a house and into the back street that would eventually lead out into the town, she needed to be around people, if the hunger took over then so be it.

She rounded into the car park behind a block of buildings and hunched over to hide her face, just because she wasn't exactly herself didn't mean that she was going to be stupid. There was nobody around but she didn't let her guard down.

"And what do you think _you're_ doing?" It was an English accent and she knew it all too well. She stopped dead, chills running up her spine. It felt like moments passed before she managed to calm herself down enough to turn around.

She finally saw him. She swallowed.

_"Herrick?"_

* * *

**_I'm so sorry. I don't like leaving you on cliffhangers but this was rather spontaneous and I needed something to end it one and this is what I got. Sorry._**

**_So I feel like I lost it a little at the end but that was because I got further with this before I'd done the previous chapter and - like I said - the end of this was very spontaneous. I haven't really thought this through but it should all link together._**

**_Thank you for reading. Please review._**


	11. Chapter 11 - Stop!

_**Chapter 11 - Stop!**_

* * *

Mitchell ran through the backstreets of Bristol. He'd managed to get out of the hospital without George seeing him leave and he'd quickly stripped of his scrubs before jumping in the car and getting back to the house. He'd quickly interrogated Annie before running back from the house, warning her not to follow.

That's how he found himself scouting for her; the only thought running through his head was one that pretty much defined his life.

_Fuck._

He had to find her; if she never actually killed Sarah then she still had some control of herself. If she killed someone now then her job would just be harder later on; it would be so much harder to pull her back.

He tripped on the root of a tree that was growing out from under someone's garden fence but managed to stay upright.

Rain had soaked his jeans and was seeping through the lace holes on his boots; his jacket was sticking to his arms and letting the water through to his tee shirt, causing it to plaster itself to his torso. If he wasn't already cold due to being a vampire, he would probably collapsed into a shaking ball but his condition and the adrenalin from _having_ to fine Murph was taking over.

He rounded into the car park and saw two figures. The one that had its back to her was clearly Murph, her dark brown hair was being whipped to the right by the wind and soaking her locks with the rain it carried.

When he saw who stood opposite her he froze. Herrick was stood, as calm as ever, a few metres away from her, his hands were folded neatly behind his back and his face was a portrait of collectedness.

He was speaking but over the sound of the rain he couldn't hear, something told Mitchell to stay where he was for a few more moments.

He stuck to the shadows as he heard Herrick begin to raise his voice. "Why don't you do it, Brenna?!" he shouted. Mitchell saw her fists clench. "If you're angry, why don't you show me how angry you are?!"

Just like that, she snapped. She pounced forward and pushed him onto the cold, wet floor, the rain splashed from his body. She straddled his stomach to get as good a grip on his throat as she could. She shook, forcing his head into the floor over and over again.

Mitchell ran forward. As much as he had a special kind of hatred for Herrick, he couldn't let Murph kill him. He grabbed her arms and pulled her away, saying her name to persuade her away. With a final tug, she was forced to let go and the pair tumbled backwards, only just managing to stay on their feet.

Herrick didn't help the situation by letting out manic laughter as he pushed himself onto his elbows. Mitchell pushed Murph behind him, keeping his arm out so he could grab her if she ran forward again. Herrick stood up and Mitchell found his back straightening defensively.

Herrick chuckled. "Always the saviour, Mitchell." He cocked his head. "Has Murph ever actually done anything without you there to _babysit _her?" she growled and stepped forward but Mitchell managed to hold her back so she resorted to just shouting, pointing a warning finger at the Englishman.

"Don't you _feckin' dare!_" she hissed but Herrick simply held his hands up in mock fear and Mitchell practically heard her teeth grate. He'd seen her like this before, it never normally ended well. He knew that he needed to keep her behind him and that; if possible, he needed to get Herrick away so he could talk some sense into her.

"Now," Herrick said. "This conversation hasn't exactly gone to plan." He walked forward. "I had simply planned to try and _persuade _you to join us again, to mix you – once more – into the fold." He said the entire thing making eye contact with Mitchell.

"Then why did ye come to Murph?" Mitchell asked, still holding the woman behind him.

Herrick shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I want her back as well. You made a _fantastic_ pair." Mitchell frowned slightly, Herrick wasn't stupid, he knew that talking about the past would enrage Murph even more than he already had, Mitchell just couldn't figure out why he'd want to.

Mitchell heard Murph growl, it was low and he knew that Herrick couldn't hear over the rain. "You might wanna get to the point." Mitchell told Herrick whose eyes shot to Murph. He scoffed and smirked. "Always the same." He tormented before looking back to Mitchell. "Control your dog." He spat.

Murph flew forward again. It took Mitchell's entire force to shoulder her further back and then give her a stern look to keep her behind him. He cocked an eyebrow at Herrick who was taking pleasure in Murph's annoyance. "What's wrong with you?!" Mitchell shouted at him.

"She needs that anger Mitchell; she has to ride it out." That was what he wanted, he wanted the anger to take control; he wanted her force back. Mitchell had thought he was being more mean than usual and it was all to wind her up.

"No she doesn't, she needs to quash it." He wasn't sure if he was telling Herrick or saying it out loud for Murph to hear. "You know what it leads to if she doesn't."

"Hmm, and wonderful days they were." He said.

"We don't want t'at Herrick." He spat the name. "We don't _want _to be like you. I get t'at you don't understand and I get t'at you want us back but why can't you just leave us to our business?"

Herrick strolled forward. "I don't think you understand, Mitchell. _Your business _is _our business_; we help our own because the world is a cruel place. Admit it; everything's easier when you're with us."

"No," Mitchell stepped forward and prodded his finger into Herrick's chest. "It's _not _easier with you. We _want_ to be on our own. We don't _want _to join you. We don't _want _anyt'ing to do with you. We w_ant _you to _leave. Us. Alone._"

He just stared at Mitchell for a moment and chuckled. "You'll want to come back; both of you." He glanced to Murph. "It's hard to ignore us when we call." He said before turning and starting to walk away. "Oh!" he exclaimed, turning back and pointing at Murph. "I have something that you're going to want." He said before disappearing into the shadows. "You know where we are!" he called before his chuckles dispersed in the rain.

Mitchell took a relieved breath before turning to Murph. "What were ye doing?" he asked. "I said I'd help. I promised you. Why didn't you come to me?" he asked.

The anger was slowly leaving her expression as she realised what she had set out that evening to do. She swallowed. "I . . . I don't know. I," she shook her head. "I wasn't t'inking clearly. I'm still not; I t'ought that maybe I could resist-"

"Murph," he said, his tone had a hint of disappointment and it made the woman's heart clench. "You have to trust me for this to work, _you know that_."

Her brows knitted together in regret. "I'm so sorry." She breathed. "I-"

"No, no, Murph. Stop!" he said, grabbing her shoulders and looking into her emerald eyes. They seemed dim, they weren't as bright as usual and it pained him to see her with such hurt in her eyes. "We're going backwards. If you go back to regret then we'll have to do this whole thing again." He explained. "It's just a cycle if you do that. You've got to hold onto this feeling, this_ human _feeling. It stops if you do, remember?"

She swallowed and nodded. "Yes, I remember."

Mitchell stood up. "Good." Murph's eyes shot up to meet his, he looped his arm over her back. "Let's go home."

She shifted into his torso, feeling protected. Then she thought of something and stopped. "Wait." She said, moving out of his arm. "He said he had something I'm going to want. What do you think he has?"

Mitchell shrugged. "It could be anything, something you've lost or left behind. You know Herrick, he'll find a way to twist it into somet'ing it's not, he'll make whatever it is seem more valuable than it actually is."

Murph chewed on her cheek and looked to the floor. "Hmm, I guess so." She said, moving forward and back into his embrace, wrapping her jacket around her against the rain.

* * *

_**Wow, three chapters in 2 days. I've never done that before. Yet again, It's been the fantastic reviews I've received thats gotten me to write, so thank you for that. Please review if you can, it really is inspirational. I'm on summer holidays too so if you review, updates will definitely come. Thank you for reading. Until next time.**_


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